Let The Games Begin!
by PlatinumPizzaKiller
Summary: Peeta and Katniss are taking part in a different sort of Game: pranking. Follow their  fluffy  story as they try to outwit each other without getting humiliated. Set in a Panem where April Fools' day exsists. Fluff. Threeshot.
1. Glittering Man

From the moment my eyes open, I know today is not like any other day. Today, for the first time this year, Peeta will not be by my side. Today, he is the opponent. Today, I will be victorious, while Peeta will lose shamefully. Today, Peeta is going _down._

My eyes roam over towards the window. It's still not light yet; I can faintly see the moon behind a cloud. I turn around and silence the annoying buzzing device. It's some Capitol device, called an "Alarm Clock". It has no use here in District 12, where people rise with the sun and sleep with fatigue. But I had it ordered it especially for today.

I know it is probably too early, but I hunter walk to the bathroom, stopping frequently to make sure everything is in its place. I speedily finish my bathroom needs, then rush downstairs.

I lift up a cushion and retrieve my pride and joy. I shake the bottle, making sure it's stirred up. A smile crosses my face. He won't know what hit him.

I open the door and step outside. The cool, spring dawn rejuvenates me, working much more efficiently than that disgusting coffee Peeta likes to drink. I start slowly treading over to Peeta's place.

As I pass by Haymitch's house, I hear his words from when we first started this game: "What are you two, kids?" he would gruff, "Playing juvenile little games? Do you have nothing better to do than pull pranks on each other, sweetheart?"

In a way, he's right, of course. I really don't know why I like it. I guess it's the thrill and chase of it. That, and the look on Peeta's face when I get him good. Besides, its tradition! And you don't interrupt _that_.

The prank war lasts for the entire day. Each time we get the other person, we receive points, depending on how elaborate it is. The person with the most points at the end of the day wins. The winner gets anything they want from the loser. It's simple and a little bit stupid, but a heck lot of fun. And fun is a thing that I haven't felt in a _long _time.

I dig around my pocket and come up with the key for Peeta's door. I carefully push it open, making sure to keep quiet. I start making my way upstairs.

The List of Forbidden Things swirls my mind. It was _his _idea, but it was a good one. The List included things that we could not do, for example, use things that could trigger flashbacks or nightmares. It helps eliminate possible dangers.

I come to a halt in front of his bedroom. I press my ear against the door. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open.

Peeta is sound asleep on his bed, mouth parted slightly. I look at him for a second, smiling. He looks adorable when sleeping! Do _I _look like that when I sleep? My smile fades away at this thought.

I stride over to his side, scrutinizing him. His chest rises and falls in a steady beat. Yep, he's asleep. I almost regret what I'm about to do…

I take out the bottle and give it another shake. In the moonlight, the glitter inside the bottle sparkles. I smile. Having Octavia as a stylist comes in handy on days like today.

I press down on the nozzle, and start spraying Peeta. I stop every time he moves, and progress is slow. Eventually, Peeta is glittering from head to toe. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. And the day hasn't even begun, yet!

Now I move on to Part Two of my early morning plan.

I go to the bathroom attached to his room and open the cabinet. I smile when I see it. The large jar filled with a green concoction is supposed to "refresh your skin" and make you look "ten years younger!". Flavius had sent it to Peeta for his birthday. Peeta had thrown it in his cabinet without a second thought, but I had kept it in mind.

I scoop some of the glob and smear my face with it. When I'm done, I look like a mint green Capitol-created monster. Perfect.

As I hear the first birds start to chirp outside, I go back to Peeta's room. He is already stirring. I almost roll my eyes. Peeta is such a morning person, it's annoying.

When I see his eyes start to flutter, I run to hide in the bathroom. A few minutes later, I hear Peeta getting up. There are metallic sounds, which mean he's putting his leg on. He yawns, then makes his way over here.

I chomp on my tongue to repress my laughter. I pull the shower curtain closer to me, making sure I'm hidden, but can see through a crack in the fabric.

Peeta walks to the toilet without a second glance to the mirror. I shut my eyes as he urinates. He walks over to the sink.

Peeta glances at himself in the mirror, then does a double take. The expression on his face is almost comical. His jaw is so wide open, I think it might be stuck. His eyes practically bug out of his head. Then, a high-pitched shriek leaves his throat.

Before I can lose it, I burst out of the bathtub, shouting. Peeta falls over, screaming his head off, while I double over in laughter. Peeta does nothing for a while. He seems to be in shock.

"You…you…" he finally stammers, "Not funny!"

"Oh, yes, it was," I say, flicking a tear away.

Peeta scowls. I think it's the first time I've seen him do it. "It's, like, six in the morning!"

"I told you I'd be ahead of the game this year." I say, smiling smugly.

"Ha, ha," he says drily, getting to his feet. He inspects himself in the mirror. "I look so manly."

"Actually," I say, "I think 'sparkly' is the current trend for men in the Capitol." When he gives me a look, I add, "I've been talking to Flavius."

Peeta lets out a chuckle. "Glitter, huh?"

I nod happily. "Yep!"

He touches my cheek. "What's that on your face?"

"Your age erasing cream," I say. "I think it worked pretty well."

"So I see." Is his comment.

"So?" I say, "How many points?"

"Out of ten, I'd say two."

I cross my arms. "Oh, come on! You're just mad you didn't think of it first! I say it deserves _at least _nine points."

Peeta shakes his head. "No way. I say four."

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Fine," I huff, "Although I'm only allowing it because you look so manly."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "Funny. Wait till I get you." Peeta suddenly smiles. It's so eerie, my own fades away. He leans in, and in my ear, whispers, "We'll see who's laughing then."

I get actual shivers down my spine.


	2. Wannabe Bird

I make my way back to my house, looking over my shoulder frequently. It's been a couple of hours since my glittering prank, and I couldn't take being alone in the house anymore. So I had locked up all my windows and doors and had gone hunting in the woods.

I arrive at the Victor's Village, stopping to make sure everything looks right. As I pass by Peeta's house, I see that his lights are out. He must not be home.

I tread up the steps to my house. My fingers have just grasped my key when it happens.

I am doused by gallons of liquid falling from above.

I sputter out, trying to keep the liquid from travelling to my eyes. I look up, but don't see the source of the liquid. I wipe my face urgently, and realize the liquid is sticky; some sort of watery glue, maybe? Whatever it is, I need to get inside to wash it off.

A nagging feeling rises in my stomach. Something is not quite right about this picture. If this is Peeta's prank, it's a lame one. The highest it can score is a two. Why would he go into all this trouble to get a score of two?

When I open my door, one of Haymitch's geese flies out. I gasp, startled at the sudden appearance of the bird. When did Haymitch's goose get inside my house…?

In the split second it takes me to put two and two together, it happens. The whole flock of geese come thundering out at once. I'm shrieking my head off, the geese are honking all at once, and through this all, I hear the sound of Haymitch and Peeta laughing their guts out.

Finally, the geese stop stampeding. They waddle back to Haymitch, who is currently doubled over in laughter. The geese feathers have stuck to the fluid, making me look like some lunatic bird wannabe.

For a while, I cannot speak. I am in so much shock, my brain refuses to work. Finally, my rage comes out in a long, drawn out scream. I stomp over to Peeta and use all my power to punch him in his arms, legs, chest. He just keeps laughing.

"You are the worst!" I shriek, "You too, Haymitch! I mean, agreeing with something like this? You good for nothing—" But I might as well be speaking to air. The two pay me no attention, and the more angry I become, the harder they laugh.

Finally, I stop speaking and wait them out. Finally, Peeta forms coherent words, "You…look…so…funny!"

My face is hot enough to cook on. "Ha, ha. So funny."

"I haven't had this much fun in a long time, sweetheart," Haymitch chuckles, "Give us a break."

"Oh, I will give you a break," I say, holding my fist up threateningly. This causes them to break out in laughter again. Narrowing my eyes, I get my bow and arrow in position. Their mirth abruptly dies away, making me smile.

"Katniss," Peeta says, "It was a prank. You can't get mad!"

I scowl, partly because he is right. When we first started this, he was hesitant, knowing my temper. I had assured him that I wouldn't get angry, knowing it was all in good fun. That was the only reason he had agreed.

I lower my arrow. "Fine."

"Ten points," Haymitch declares, "It deserves a ten!" Peeta nods in agreement.

"Don't be ridiculous," I scowl at the boys, "Five. I give it a five."

"Six," Haymitch argues.

"Five." I say firmly.

Haymitch opens his mouth, but Peeta cuts in, "Alright, five it is." He smiles goofily, "But only because you look so beautiful."

Haymitch starts guffawing, and I glare at Peeta. "Funny."

An idea is forming in my head. I squint my eyes in concentration. Yes, I have that…I will need that…I can get that from…I smile. I think my next prank is ready. "Just you wait, Peeta Mellark. Just you wait."

Haymitch shudders. "I'm scared _for _you."


	3. A Cheesy Surprise

**Author's Note: **Ta da! The last part of the "prank war" is here! I'm not entirely happy with this one, but I've been having major writer's block for the past week, so bear with me. Please enjoy! :)

* * *

><p>I close the cabinet just as Peeta enters the house. I whip around, trying to wipe the smile off my face. I hear him walk towards the kitchen, humming a happy tune. His smile fades out when he sees me.<p>

"What," he says, "are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Nothing," I sing.

Peeta's eyes widen. "Katniss," he says, "What did you do?"

I step away from the counter. "See for yourself."

Peeta looks, then does a double-take. His lets go of the bag he was holding, cheese buns spilling to the floor. A cry of agony leaves his throat.

Peeta rushes past me, patting at the wooden counter, as if he doesn't quite believe what he sees – or rather, what he _doesn't _see. All of his baking supplies, baking utensils, and baked goods are gone. Instead of bowls and mixers and flour and milk, an empty counter stares up at him.

Peeta's hands go to his hair, pulling at tufts of it. I bite my lip. His reaction is similar to how I would act if the woods suddenly disappeared one day.

"KATNISS!" he shrieks, "Wh-what did you do to all my things?"

I smile cheekily up at him. "Threw them away."

Peeta seems to be in shock. Then, an animal moan leaves his throat. He springs forward, grabbing onto my shoulders. At first I start, alarmed at his touch. I then realize his eyes aren't clouded with his hijacking, but frantic with worry. He shakes me, rather dramatically. "KATNISS!"

I look at him with wide, innocent eyes. "It's just a prank…"

"Yes, but what about the rules?" he screeches, "No disposing of beloved things—"

I roll my eyes. "Give me a break, Peeta. I just threw away some bread and baking supplies."

Peeta looks downright offended. "_Just _some bread, Katniss? _Just _some baking supplies, Katniss?"

I pull away from his grasp. "Calm down. We can have them replaced."

"No, we can't!" he shrieks, "Each thing had its own value and history!"

I try to suppress my laughter, but fail. Right, like each pastry brush and dough blender had a legend to go with it.

"Katniss," Peeta says, his voice hurt, "I'm serious! That mixer…that was my father's."

Oh…my laughter abruptly dies away. Before I know it, tears have gathered in Peeta's blue eyes.

"Peeta—"

"No," he cuts me off, "That was mean, Katniss, just mean." A tear slides down his face, "You…you…how could you!"

I start laughing. It's uncontrollable and unexpected. I double over as Peeta stares quizzically at me, looking a bit hurt. Before he thinks I'm being plain cruel, I open a cabinet door. All of his things stare back at us.

Peeta's eyes widen. He drops to his knees in front of the door, a breath of relief leaving him. He grabs the first thing he can reach – in this case, a flower shaped cookie cutter – and brings it to his lips. This causes me to break out in another fit of laughter, tears of mirth appearing in my eyes.

"Not funny," he says at last, but he's smiling.

My laughter finally comes to an end. My eyes trail to the cheese buns he had dropped when he had walked in here. "So scared you dropped your buns," I smirk.

"Ha, ha," he rolls his eyes. He and I gather them up and put it on a plate. As I reach for one, he smacks my hand away.

"No cheese buns for you," he says.

My hand shoots out and grabs a bun before Peeta can smack it away. I give him a superior look, and take a victorious bite.

Something is wrong.

The bun, instead of being cheesy and sweet, is flaming inside my mouth. It literally feels like I've swallowed fire.

"Augh!" I run to the sink, using my cupped hands to bring the cold water to my mouth. I do this repeatedly, the water sloshing down the front of my shirt, but the heat doesn't go away. All through this, Peeta's laugh keeps me company.

Finally, the zest dies down. A sigh of relief leaves me. I turn around to glare at the doubled-over Peeta. "You idiot!"

He chuckles. "Who knew the chilly pepper from Plutarch would ever come in handy?"

"That could've killed me!"

Peeta rolls his eyes. "The spice only lasts a couple of minutes. I wouldn't give you anything that could hurt you, Katniss."

I scowl. Even when pranking, Peeta somehow manages to be considering.

"Wow," Peeta suddenly says, looking out the window. I follow his gaze. The sky is a soft orange; the sun low on the horizon. This is Peeta's favourite time of day.

I take a look at him. Peeta is transfixed. His eyes have an awed look to them. He then, almost subconsciously, pulls me close, stroking my hair. Soon, the sun has set, and the sky is a red and violet streaked spectacle.

"It's over," he says.

"Hmm?"

"It's over. The Games."

"They were over a long time ago, Peeta."

"No, I mean _these _Games."

I pull out of his grasp. "Huh?"

"The pranking, Katniss. Each year, when the sun sets, the pranking is over."

I let out a little laugh. "Oh, yeah. You're right."

"So," Peeta says, giving me a sly look, "You _do _know I won, right?"

I smirk. "Yeah, right. The prank I just did was worth ten points."

Peeta scoffs, "Ten points for hiding things?"

"Coming from the one who freaked out over it."

"Touché," Peeta says, "I say…three points."

"Nuh uh," I say, "Seven."

"Four, or no deal."

I scowl. "Fine. Four."

"Now _my _prank," Peeta smiles, "was worth _at least _ten points. You were double crossed!"

"It _was _a good prank," I have to admit, "But nowhere _near _ten points."

"Fine, but it deserves a five, at least."

"No way!"

"Katniss…"

I sigh. "Fine."

"So," Peeta says, "Your five points from before plus your four points from now gives you a total of nine points. My five points from before plus my five from now gives me a total of," a triumphant smile spreads over his face, "ten!"

I roll my eyes. "Hurray for you."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Peeta says, "Presenting the winner of the fifth Pranking Games: Peeta Mellark!"

I sigh. "Really, Peeta?"

He grins. "You're mine for the day, Katniss You have to do anything I say!"

I scowl. "There's, like, five hours of the day left."

"So?" Peeta shrugs. He pulls me close, his face barely an inch away, "You're mine."

I pull away, scowling. "Fine. What do you want from me?"

He shrugs again. "I don't know…love, affection, children…"

"Peeta," I warn.

He holds his hands up. "Just kidding." His voice says otherwise.

"What do you want for real?" I ask.

"Can you sing for me?" He asks quietly.

I start. "What?"

"I love it when you sing, but you do it so little…" He glances up at my face, "But, I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to, and – "

I cut him off with a kiss. "Of course, Peeta."

He smiles. "Really?"

"But only if you make some _real_ cheese buns."

Peeta laughs. "Done deal."

And for a moment, it feels like we've both won.


End file.
